


Kylo Ren-demption: A Series of One Shots

by KyloWithAZukoArc



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Dark Rey (Star Wars), Dark Reylo, Empress Rey, F/M, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren Redemption, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren is a Mess, Parent Han Solo, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26310352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloWithAZukoArc/pseuds/KyloWithAZukoArc
Summary: A series of Kylo-centric "What if" one shots, most with a Reylo flair. From angst to werewolf au's, Dark Reylo to redemption arcs, even one inspired by Blade Runner, and more. Could include smut, might not. Drabble from my tumblr account KyloWithAZukoArc #bensolodeservedbetter
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. /As if they had been connected all along/

**Author's Note:**

> "What if?" Reylo Interrogation Scene  
> Short, 650 words  
> Rated E for everyone  
> First Drabble piece from my tumblr @KyloWithAZukoArc

Arrested to the table, she awoke. Awoke like her heart had stopped and medics had shocked it back alive.

“Where am I?” she blearily released to the world.

“You’re my guest.”

The darkened form of her assailant crouched on the floor, a shadow in the corner of the room. A predatory haunch fit to a wildcat or gargoyle veiled him. He was a masked creature and he studied his prey.

Immediately, oddly, she felt some distant connection with the fiend. Despite their adversarial first encounter, something in her recognized his storm cloud. Like she’d felt the ozone of his atmosphere before.

Snapping back, she demanded to know where her friends were. Strangely, he was honestly in his answer: He didn’t know.

“You still want to kill me,” he observed.

“That’s what happens when you’re being hunted by a creature in a mask.”

A moment of consideration. His robes blackened his shape like a grim reaper, his saber the scythe for the harvest. But Death himself reached for the hardened shell of his outer skull. And he revealed his face to her.

“ _You_ ,” she said with utmost certainty. It was the boy from her midnight dreaming. From her nightmarish consciousness. The fantastical faraway thoughts she’d had since a child. She’d felt crazy. Her entire life a ghost had haunted her with this same face. She had heard his voice, seen his form, understood his feelings. But at every turn she had thought this part of her insane, at every moment she pushed to block it out. Until the hours at night when one could not be more lonely. He had whispered to her of horizons both of them had wished for, alone in their own beds.

He repeated himself, but now as a question: “You still want to kill me?”

She was at a loss for words. Rey had thought this apparition just that: a vision. The desert heat playing tricks on her mind, her body, her soul. Yet now he stood before her. Clear as day.

He threw his helmet to the side, it thudded into a pool of dusty sand. He confessed: “I thought you were a lie.”

“You’re here. You do exist. Why are you... Who are you? Really?”

She’d only had quiet conversations with him before. Whispers over lightyears. He had seen the ocean she imagined. The island. She had felt his pain and betrayal. But there were never details. It was vague. Always vague. Why, in all the ways their lives could have collided, did it have to go crystallize like this?

“Kylo Ren. I am Kylo Ren,” he spake her.

“No... no you’re not,” she began to recall. “Those years before... so long ago. You called yourself Ben.”

And he slammed his hands against the wall console. She jumped with a fright. “Never call me that name again,” he screamed at her. She sat back with a heart of glass.

“Rey,” he said, unclenching his fists. “Forgive me. It’s been a long time. You don’t know what’s happened since.”

The Force. She thought. It had brought them together. Decades after their first contact, they were at last in each others’ presence.

“You have the map,” he said. “The map to Luke Skywalker. That is what I am here for. But...,” he lingered, “more than that, you don’t know your own power. Its potential. Skywalker pales to it.”

He released her bonds then. The chair that held her steadfast opened to let her free.

“We’ve always been connected. Yet apart. But today we come together.” He extended his hand, “Rey... join me.” 

She knew not of his plan. Not of his world. Not of this wild excursion or the bigger picture. Not what he intended. But she knew his hands. Knew his heart. Knew her own wishing for him. For his promises to be real. For his love to be hers.

And she took his hand, all else be damned.


	2. /As If She Left Him/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touch starved Kylo Ren, Post-TLJ
> 
> “Star Wars x Blade Runner 2049”  
> Prompt by @sunflowersben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, 825 words  
> Rated E for Everyone
> 
> #sadkylo #pathetickylo

Seeing her close the door on him had been the final nail in the coffin. Kylo Ren was totally alone. There was no Snoke to guide him. No Han to lead him. No Leia to comfort him. Now and forevermore No Luke to teach him. Or Rey to...

Luke’s little performance had cost Kylo his dignity. Kylo’s rage and single-mindedness had not only lost him the victory, but his respect as well.

While no one would ever dream of acting out to his face, he knew their inner judgement, heard the scathing whispers that shifted through the ranks. He couldn’t kill all of his subordinates. So killing Hux would just have to do instead.

He was a mess. Both an unhinged depressive maniac and an acutely focused murderer. Between his rejection from Rey and his embarrassment from Skywalker, he was more hellbent than ever on revenge.

He wasn’t stupid though. No. Kylo would soon learn from his mistakes. He was self aware enough to know blind rage had been his own downfall. He needed to change tactics. Still keeping his focus honed on destroying the Resistance, but now with a cooled head. Deadly precision. A cold patience. They would be rooted from the dirt in time. He had the manpower and systems to do it. All he had to do was press on.

Years passed. The scars on Kylo’s face had dimmed over time, with new ones criss-crossing them. Time changes a man. And isolation ruins him.

He sat alone in his chambers, the intensity of the day cooling in his brain. A glass of wine in his hand, and silence. He swirled the red abyss in his cup. A moment later he called out, “Run program 18-5-25” to no one in particular. 

Whirling of calculations upstarted the software wired through his quarters. Not half a minute later a hologram appeared, that of a woman. She was wrapped in scratchy cloth and carried a staff. Her hair was pulled back in thirds. She raised her weapon to him: “I will defeat you, Kylo Ren!”

“Execute version 7.9038,” he ordered. Immediately the hologram altered its form. The desert scavenger had been replaced by a goddess in black. She held a dual lightsaber now instead of the rod. She pulled down her raven hood, unveiling her sharpened eyes. “What ails you tonight, my beloved?” 

“Another escape,” Kylo took a sip of his vice. “How do they keep managing to slip my grasp. The moment I crush one pocket, another pops up in its place.”

The hologram walked over to him and ran her fingers through his hair. “Shh shh, my Emperor. We need to crush their hope. With it, they will keep appearing like flies to a corpse. So rid the corpse. Rid their hope. Show no mercy. And they will end.”

He looked up into her reddened eyes. He would have to make a mental note that this shade of red was a shy too uncanny valley; he would need to fix it later. 

For now, he kissed her wrists. “You are right, my sweet.” 

She moved to place her lips on his. The new update with touch subtly had been worth every last invested cent. She felt entirely warm and soft and lithe. He wanted her lips wet, but this would have to do for now. The technology would come eventually. 

“Version 5.668,” he called, breaking the kiss. Again the ghostly screen changed. Now her hair was down. She dressed in white. A nightgown. Gentleness was coded in her every movement. He only stared at her,

“Where are you now?”

Her voice giggled like a far away angel, “I saw you, you know. I was in the X-Wing. I flew by your viewport. Who knows where I am now. Coruscant? Tattooine? Am I in Naboo?” Her laughter reverberated the air. “You better come find me.”

“Why didn’t you come in,” he begged the void, “You were right there. I called to you. I wouldn’t have hurt you. I just wanted to talk.”

“Ben-Ben-Ben-Ben-Ben,” the hologram began to glitch. It had always been a flaw with this prototype. It was now stuck on loop flashing a wonderfully playful smile, hair brushing her shoulders with the resetting motion. He crushed the wine glass in his hand. 

The glass bit into his fingers, but he didn’t care. He squeezed them in even tighter. “I wouldn’t have hurt you,” he breathed out, “I promise I wouldn’t have. Why did you shut me out. Rey...”

And the ghost kept smiling. Its dress kept flowing. Its hair kept waving. And the audio cut out. Replacing it came a soundbite from another Rey, the Rey on the island. Her island. The one she had seen in her dreams.

“I’ll-be-wait-ing-for-you-You-are-not-a-lone-I’ll-be-wait-ing-for-you-you-are-not-a-lone-I’ll-be-wait-ing-for-you-you-are-a-lone-I’ll-be-“

His blood dripped, and his tears fell, and his ghosts would never be enough. It was too late for him. She would never wait for him, and he would never have another again. 


	3. /As if Kylo made a different choice/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren and Han Solo Father Son Dynamic  
> One Shot  
> 880 words  
> Rated E for Everyone

Snoke had promised him power. Promised him direction. Certainty. Dominion. Control. Excellence. The world. And yet Kylo was miserable.

In the beginning, there was the high, the seduction. He was told he would outdo Vader someday, if he kept applying himself. And he ground himself to the bone to make it happen.

But as the years passed, instilling fear into the hearts of all he crossed didn’t prove enough. This position that reigned above all others, it only served to isolate him. And gave too much time to be alone with his thoughts.

Thoughts like it was too late for him. There was no way he could go back. Thoughts like he was being weak for wanting to. Thoughts like Luke was right to try to kill him, he’d deserved it. Thoughts like, no, he just had to keep believing in Snoke. He had given up everything to chase the Dark. It would be worth it. It would be.

But seeing his father. There on the bridge, Kylo’s resolve held on a thin string. He’d been waiting for this day for a long time - the last time he had seen Han, Kylo was being sent away to Luke’s new Academy. To get a handle on Kylo’s Dark side. That was the first time his Master had tried to control him. Kylo had just jumped from the pan into the fire.

His dad, though. He had more grey in him. He had more wrinkles. From worry? About his son? Or from the dangerous smuggler life Han chose? Kylo felt his father’s soul. It was definitely the former.

But Snoke’s promises still held Ben’s heart. If he just let himself fall into the Dark side, it would take away all the pain. There would no longer be doubt. No longer be sorrow or need. He’d be awash of all conscience. He could exist as a king surveying his conquered kingdoms, and that would fill his spirit.

So Kylo pushed out: “Your son is gone. He was weak and foolish like his father. So I destroyed him.”

The philosophy of Anakin dying to Darth Vader pervaded his words. He was nigh quoting Snoke’s teachings here. As if on queue, Han retorted:

“That’s what Snoke wants you to believe.”

Han then spoke the thoughts Kylo kept to his chest. That Snoke was using him, and Snoke would throw him away if he ever proved less-than. It had been so long since Kylo and Han had last talked, and their previous encounter and not been a happy one. Yet here was his father shining a light on all the secrets Ben had buried. After so long.

“You know it’s true,” Han said.

Kylo had taken off his mask, and here, Kylo took off his mask again, in another sense:

“It’s too late for me,” he replied in complete honesty. There was no bravado here. No residual anger. Just longing to be back home with those he knew actually cared about him. But all the atrocities he had committed. There was no redemption for him. It wasn’t possible.

“No, it’s not. Leave here with me and come home. We miss you.”

Ben was breaking. He was breaking. He was broke.

But the fear of Snoke terrified him to his core. And he knew others would not receive him with such open arms; it couldn’t be this easy. Han represented it like all the prodigal son had to do was return home and everything would be just fine.

“I’m being torn apart,” Kylo admitted. Tears welled in his eyes. “I want to be free of this pain.”

_The Dark side will free you. Revel in it. Let it absorb you. Let it be done. Do it._

It was as if Snoke was speaking to him now. He couldn’t be sure if this was his own concoction, knowing what Snoke would say in this moment, or if Snoke was really there, telling him these things.

“I know what I have to do, but I don’t know if I have the strength to do it.”

He fingered his lightsaber. All he had to do was activate it. He wouldn’t even have to strike his father, he just had to push a button. Han stood so close to him, the range of the blade would do all the work. It would be so easy. It would be so hard.

“Will you help me do it?”

“Yes. Anything,” and Han gave his hand.

He extended it out to Ben like all he had to do was take it and everything would go back to normal. Everything would be fine. He could see his mom again. He could laugh with Chewy again. He could fly with his dad again. They could find Luke together. All he had to do was take it. All he had to do was push a button.

He dropped his mask.

And he took his hand.

Nothing would ever go back to normal, and he knew it. Nothing could ever be the same. But maybe things could change. Maybe he could change. Maybe things could be better. Maybe it could be alright.

And they ran together, Chewy and Rey and Finn in tow, all the way back to the Millennium Falcon, Snoke’s wrath be damned, come what way.


	4. “Dark Side of the Moon” OR “Little Rey Riding Hood”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reylo Werewolf One Shot  
> 1180 words  
> Rated uh T for light gore?

She knew of it. The pull to the Light. The pull to the Dark.

She knew him. She knew he had been bitten. Knew the blood lust. The call. The outrageous surge of force that would flood through his being. It would transform him. The Dark Side of the Moon would twist one into something ugly. Unforgivable. Relentless. She had seen the scourge of Palpatine’s wolven form across the land. She understood because she carried that Sith’s wolf blood. Carried that burden her whole life. It had led to her own conquests and destruction. But no more.

Now, it only pushed her to stop the man who stood before her.

Ben. His spirit split to the bone. But what could be done? He held his arm, having been fanged by Snoke, and it was burning. The Full Moon shown above him. Upon him. Morphing him. Lighting the red of her cloak.

“Ben,” she had said.

But he wouldn’t be Ben much longer. Soon he would turn completely into Kylo. The Ren in his veins would compel him to annihilate everything in his path. That first thing being Rey herself.

She laid her hood down, revealing the shine of her wet eyes. She saw him clench the cross in his hand, the one he called a saber, around his neck. Ben carried it with him everywhere. It now ran red with blood, his own, from clenching it so tight. It didn’t help the pain.

“Ben,” she reiterated.

He choked out, “It’s too late.”

She saw the transformation take hold. In the back of her mind, she felt she could hear her grandfather’s laugh. Similarly, a growl came from her lover ahead.

The worst of it was how the skin split. Like a cocoon, she would see his next stage burst forth from his being. Bones breaking forward. Backward. Adjusting to their new weight, new height. Ben had always towered over her. Now he would twice over.

Ben’s convulsions wracked his body. The Dark Side brought out monsters incomprehensible from the hearts of men, women, and others alike. His heart now laid splayed before her. It was that of a beast.

A pained howl. An eruption from the shock of change, an impulse of his new wolf.

A returned echo. An answer. From Snoke. And another. From Palpatine. The reverberating cries. This curse would continue. She had turned to the sun to stop it within herself. But what of him?

“Ben, please,” she pleaded, “Fight it.”

But he only clawed closer to her.

Was there no Light left in him?

“I know you’re still in there. You don’t want this.”

Reasoning. She was the first person to know that wouldn’t work. This pull. This domination. It commanded him now. Did he even recognize her?

But she had to beg his recognition. They had gone through too much for her to be truly gone from him. When she was growing up, she’d had no one to stop her. Only after a chance meeting with a Skywalker had her path been begin to straighten.

Was not Skywalker also in Ben?

“You didn’t choose this,” she spoke out to him, “You were tricked. By Snoke. This isn’t you. Please.”

But Kylo kept on, inching closer, the last of his animal coming out. His new teeth snarled, his new eyes locked onto her.

She fell to her knees.

“Truly? It is what you wanted? You needed power that badly?” Hot tears fell down her cheeks. “Well let me be the first to tell you- it won’t fix your emptiness.”

He bayed at her, legs still getting used to this different stride.

“You think unleashing your fury, wrecking everything - that will make you feel better? Because trust me, it doesn’t.”

He gathered his footing, saliva dripping down his teeth nigh like a waterfall.

“It’s not too late to come back. No matter what they say, you can. It’s hard. But you can. Please, Ben, come back to-“

And he launched at her. His jaws clamped around her shoulder, down to her arm, and waist - his skull was that huge - and she screamed out. It was not much different than the pain of her own transformations.

So she stood in it, because she’d been through this before. She knew what he was fighting through. She’d experienced such intensity every Full Moon for most of her life.

“You’re not angry with me, Ben,” she heaved out, “I’m not the problem here.”

He clenched harder. The pain would have caused another to go into shock or pass out. But after years of developing some smidgen of tolerance, she withheld it. And touched his face.

The blackened fur that coated his visage - it was so soft. That is who she knew him to be. Soft Ben. Warm Ben. Loving Ben.

“I still believe in you,” she weakly uttered. The blood loss was now getting to her. That she had no control over. “I still...”

And her vision began to phase out. The last thing she saw was a golden eye peering at her. First with rage. Then with. What was it? Regret?

And she was gone.

Rey was gone for a very long time.

She herself thought she might be gone forever, until a glimmer of morning shine fluttered through her eyelashes.

Where was she? What had even happened? Who...

Her side hurt. Like an old hurt. Not a fresh cut, no, not like a wound right off a battle. Stiff. But still raw in the way that all deep cuts were raw.

But she also felt something else. A hand on hers. Was it?

“Ben,” she coughed out. And his head shot from the bed, eyes red, shadowy circles around them dark, and with his own cuts and bruises and casts. What was going on?

“Rey,” his voice broke. “Oh thank god. You’re okay. I’m so sorry. I’m so-“

“What happened?” she squeaked out.

“I... you were right. I was stupid. I was so angry. I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“You did... stupid.”

“I am stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.”

He scoffed. This had not been their first back and forth like so. He continued:

“Snoke wanted me to... me to end you. But I... I didn’t go through with it. Rey, he’s gone now. Ripped apart.”

“How...?”

He only looked at her. With his bandages, scars, and — where was his left hand?

“Oh Ben. Oh...”

“It’s okay... He can’t hurt us anymore. No one, anymore.”

“You...”

And they could only hold each other then.

~

It would be years later. But they would reconstitute. The Dark Side was still a part of them. Once opened, it could never be shut out entirely. But the Light was too. Its healing. Its restoration. And they would use both sides.

They could go forth, the two Skywalkers, (now officially her name too), and they would find her grandfather. Palpatine. No longer would his curse spread the land. No more.

But for now, he would just keep her in his arms, and she in hers, whispering sweet nothings.


	5. Bittersweet Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reylo Post-TROS Drabble  
> Where TROS happened and Rey settled down with Finn, but she never forgot Kylo  
> Wherein I try to accept canon for two minutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1100 words  
> Rated E for Everyone

The years passed. 

And Rey took up gardening. Finn became a master shooter. Rey adopted a porg as a pet. Finn had them get one more; he thought they were hilarious.

Rey and Finn, the two of them had settled down together. He’d been adamant for her, and while it did take a while for her to warm up to his romance, and years to heal from the harsh grief of losing all the Skywalkers and Solos, she honestly did feel for him and love him too.

They had chemistry, they laughed together, worked together, fought together, and with the help of the Resistance - now no longer the Resistance but a new (new) Republic - they helped to reshape the world into a place good for everyone. As much as it was possible anyway.

As time went, she wanted children with him, and so they had a boy and girl, who were both Force-sensitive. Finn couldn’t be more excited. 

Rey taught them what she could - leading Finn too - though she had never been fully trained as a Jedi herself. She parsed together what she could of the old texts to supplement. 

The kids were out of the house now, all grown up. The boy since a diplomat, the girl since a pilot. Rey and Finn could burst with pride; they loved their son and daughter so much. But now, with an empty nest, it was time to downsize and move to a smaller abode.

In cleaning out their attic, Rey rummaged through boxes, reveling in nostalgia. She found her old quarterstaff - something she had not needed since all the fighting ended - and her old doll. Years ago, when everything had calmed, she had swung by Jakku to pick up some old items she’d left out of haste, back when she had first met Finn. Ah yes. Memories. 

But then she found something else. Her hands met a soft material, something that looked black, and then her breath stopped. 

It was his sweater. The one... Ben... had. The one from Exegol, after he became one with the Force. It still had tatters in it.

She remembered taking it when the starfleet crumbled around her. Rey had been in shock, unable to register his literal disappearance before her eyes. She thought she had been imagining things. But no. He was gone. He was really gone.

Those first weeks, she didn’t even wash the shirt. Though it was covered with dirt, sweat, and even some blood, she couldn’t bear to do it. It still had his scent on it. And it was like a drug. When she inhaled it, her brain went completely insane, like a high. But that high only served to make her crash even harder. The sweet elation only broke her more such that she could never have him again. She cried into the shirt so many nights, that not long after, it had turned disgusting from her tears. And only then did she wash it. 

Now, so many cycles later, it was certainly musty, having been left in the attic. She never told Finn about it. Her husband had never been able to truly forgive Kylo, even after the story where Ben had turned and given his life her. Kylo and the First Order had taken Finn from his family and brainwashed him into a solider against his will. It was trauma and hurt that could never be forgiven. And though it hurt, Rey completely understood. It was almost like asking her to forgive Unkar Plutt. That would never happen. 

She held the sweater close to her again, like she had done more than twenty years ago. She’d never forgotten him.

The first couple years, it was almost all she could think about - her counterpart in the dyad being ripped from her. A soulmate taken right when he had joined the Light. It felt so cruel. 

Oh, had there been anger. So much anger, and hurt, and frustration, and loss. Deep wells of it that seemed to never empty. 

But. When Ben had given her his life force, when he tapped into the Light to bring her back, he’d imparted a part of him in her. Perhaps the dyad had become one in Rey then. But she had not been able to rectify what that meant. Especially when no one who was wise in the Force had been left to talk with her about it. And none of the texts had mentioned it. 

But whereas this lingering piece of Ben had tormented her before - a constant reminder of him in her heart - now, now it comforted. No one is ever truly gone, Luke had said. And now in this moment, she knew it was true.

She put the sweater on. It completely dwarfed her, reached far past her arms and past her knees. She had to laugh. It had even been big on Ben when he was alive. She kept chuckling to herself, finding a mirror. And she hugged her body with his sweater, like it was his arms wrapped around herself.

“I’ll always have you in my soul, Ben,” she whispered to herself. 

And she could have sworn he heard him reply, “And I’ll always be with you.”

She hugged herself tighter then, a tear or two escaping her eyelids.

Rey then folded the sweater back into the box. She knew she had already spent hours up there, not really getting much done. She sniffled.

“Everything good up there?” Finn had called to her. 

“Yeah,” she said, wiping her nose, “just found some old —what are you wearing?”

“I found Poe’s old jacket!”

“You didn’t!”

And they chortled. The old leather still looked amazing. She tried it on too. As usual, everything was too big on her. 

“We should give him a call, it’s been too long,” she mentioned.

“We should.”

And they continued to sort away the rest of their things, and Rey held the secret contentment in her heart. Her soul would always be a little broken, but always a little healed. The tension. A balance. 

Such was the way of things. 

Finn squeezed her hand, talking about all the new plans he had for their new home, and Rey smiled, squeezing it back.


	6. The deed split his spirit to the bone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After killing Han, Kylo wrestles with the pull to the light side. Takes the line "the deed split your spirit to the bone" very literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1450 words  
> Rated E for everyone

The deed split his spirit to the bone.

Kylo had felt, _felt_ , the life force of his father leaving Han’s body. Could practically see the light dimming from his eyes. Han had trusted him. Had earnestly believed, after everything, that when Kylo said he needed help, that it wasn’t a trick. And it wasn’t supposed to be. When the son offered the father his weapon, it had been in earnest. Until it wasn’t.

All it took was the press of a button. And then Han’s Light was extinguished.

When Kylo said thank you, he meant it.

And indeed, his spirit was in two. Of Kylo Ren and Ben Solo.

He was dreaming. He had to be.

“This is from the Force,” Kylo assured himself. He himself replied-

Or rather, Ben did-

“So what if it is?”

“Then it isn’t real.”

“Or maybe then it’s even more real that way.”

There were two of him. Kylo Ren in his garb of the First Order. And Ben. Ben Solo, wearing the outfit of a smuggler. His father’s jacket. In their peripheral was nothing.

“This is some kind of sick joke,” Kylo spat, staring at the version of himself that never crystalized.

“If you want to call yourself a sick joke, then yeah, definitely”

Kylo extended his red saber then, finding in no time at all that Ben’s reflexes matched his own. Blue raised right back at him.

Kylo encircled his other self. “I killed Ben Solo,” Ren affirmed. “He’s dead.”

“Dead like his father?”

“Shut up.”

“Why’d you do it?” Ben stared into his soul. “You didn’t want to.”

“Of course I did,” Kylo raged, “He was weak and foolish. He made me weak and foolish. I had to kill it.”

“Yeah, and how did that work out for you?”

“I’ve - I’ve never been stronger.”

“Mhm. Sure seems like it.”

And so Kylo lashed out against the sarcasm, striking heavily with his crossed saber. Ben defended, though was definitely stepping backwards from the onslaught. After one bashing after the other, Kylo spat,

“See?! Even you can’t hold me back. I’ll destroy you. I’ll destroy you again and again until you’re truly gone, until you never rise back up in my-”

Then Ben tripped him.

Literally just tripped him.

With Ren lurching forward, seeing red, all Ben had to do was sidestep and hold out his leg for Kylo motherfucking Ren to fucking faceplant.

Ben held his blue to the back of Kylo’s neck.

“Wow yeah, I’m super impressed. Can you teach me?”

Kylo roared. A push of the Force sent Ben flying back. Ren then readjusted his attack. He’d been too aggressive; he needed more strategy. Couldn’t let the anger get to his head. He needed to fuel his strength through the Dark Side, but at the same time not lose his grip.

Ben deftly turned from the inertia of the blast, landing gracefully on his feet, even chuckling a bit. He thought this was funny?

“For all your accusations,” Kylo wormed, “for you to make me feel like shit - sure seems like you don’t feel so bad in all this.”

“Well, why should I feel guilty? I didn’t do it. That’s your weight to bear.”

“Wow, what a Light Side thing to say,” Kylo’s acid dripped from his chin.

And then Ben’s blue steadily lowered to the ground. His bright eyes lost their luster. And suddenly he wasn’t a thirty-year-old in thief clothes anymore. Suddenly he was some 15 year old kid with ears too big for his head in an ill-fitting Jedi robe.

“I miss Dad,” Solo’s voice croaked from pubescence.

Kylo wretched. He felt like he was going to puke. He was both so angry and so disgusted, and he was going to hurl.

“I’ve missed him every day since they sent me away.” The teenager looked like he was on the fucking verge of tears. Kylo couldn’t have that.

“Fuck you and your dirty tricks,” Kylo screeched. “I don’t miss him. I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone.”

“You don’t need me?”

That cadence. That sound. Kylo spun around. What the hell. It was her. Why was. Why was she here in his head?

“I’ve always been here,” Rey answered, as if she could hear his private contemplations. She looked fresh from Starkiller Base. Rey even had Luke’s lightsaber with her. “Ready to go, Ben?” she said.

“Yeah, sure thing.”

Kylo whipped back around. The sorry excuse for a Padawan was no where to be found. In his place was an adult again, but different this time. Ben was back, though now in the fine clothes of a Senator.

“Ready, my love? My queen.”

In turning attention back to Rey, she appeared in royal makeup and a dress unlike any he had ever seen. The classic red stripe down her lip caught his attention.

Ben walked right passed him, towards her. They aimed to leave.

“WAIT!” Kylo screamed.

When they looked back at him, their appearance morphed yet again. Now they were in Jedi robes only meant for masters. Only meant for those that led in the grand council.

“Rey,” Kylo’s voice screeched. “You don’t... He’s not for you. He can’t help you. Not like I can.”

He blinked again. And now a girl in dark robes took her place. Her eyes seemed blacker. And now she held a saber of her own that crackled in red fury.

“This,” Kylo gasped, “Don’t you know this is what could be?”

Before them was an army. A people. A nation. Beside him she sat on her own throne. Kylo dressed like a king of the night, and she was his empress.

“We could have this,” he kissed her hand. “My doings pushed you out of Jakku. It brought you to me. And I could give you even more.” His eyes razed her.

But yet again there was another change. No more was he speaking to his Dark Side apprentice, lover, ruler. He was speaking to a girl in everyday clothing. The switch to the casual nature surprised him. Rey answered,

“But that isn’t what I want.”

A small child scurried by Kylo’s legs. And then another. A boy and a girl chasing each other, their singsong laughter filling his ears.

“Heyyy!” Ben laughed with him. He wore dirty clothes like that of a farmer. He had blue stains from all the milking he’d just finished. He scooped up the little girl in his arms - “Is someone not doing their chores like they were so politely told?”

“But Daaaad, I don’t want to!”

“Nobody wants to, Leia.”

“Leia?” Kylo gasped. Had that been what they named their daughter?

“You too, Anakin,” Rey scolded. The little boy rolled his eyes.

Kylo broke.

“I... I can’t.”

Rey the ship mechanic replied to him: “Yes you can.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” replied Ben the calligrapher.

“I can’t,” Kylo yet again replied. Tears began welling at his lids.

“Yes, you can,” replied Leia the daughter.

“No...,” the tears fell. He dropped his saber. It clanked to the ground.

“Yes... you... can,” replied Anakin the son.

And Kylo wept.

He completely crumbled to the floor. The First Order outwear fell away to a simple black sweater and pants.

“I’ve done too much,” Kylo cried between sobs. “Especially after Han. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

And Ben came to him. And Rey came to him. And Leia, his mother. And Akakin, his grandfather.

And Han, his father.

“We just want our son back,” his mother said. “Please. Come home.”

And Kylo woke up.

If he had lost it in the Force dream before, then he was utterly gone in reality.

And a panic struck in him. He knew that he knew. That Snoke knew. Snoke had seen it all. There was no convincing his master after his. His spirit had been split to the bone.

And now it rejoined.

Ben Solo rose from the loneliness of his bed. He rose as one of the last Skywalkers. He rose as a being of the Light. Of the sun. A Jedi. No Sith to be found.

And he was ready.

When he summoned his lightsaber from his bedside, he didn’t even take a double glance at its new color.

He didn’t even have to think about what to do next. When the moment came, he didn’t hesitate.

Whether it was Stormtroopers, the Knights of Ren, Hux, or even Snoke himself. Nothing stood in his way. Even as he lost his right arm and gained more scars than he’d ever dreamed of having, he didn’t stop. He kept pushing. And pushing. And pushing.

Until he was on a TIE fighter with only fire left behind him.

And he was going home.


End file.
